Annwyl Gyfaill
by LadyHeatherlly
Summary: Believing that Gwen and a certain loyal servant are perfect for one another, Morgana takes it upon herself to play matchmaker. Things don't exactly go as planned. Set during Series 1 between episodes four and five.


**Annwyl Gyfaill**

"Why don't you leave that until tomorrow, Gwen?"

"My lady?" Gwen looked up in surprise, then frowned in confusion as she glanced at the overflowing basket of clean laundry beside her. "Really, it's no trouble. It will not take me long to put it away."

Morgana smiled and waved a dismissive hand. "Your duties can wait until morning. Come here."

Gwen made her way over to the dressing table, then stared at her reflection in bewilderment as Morgana urged her to sit down and began to fiddle with her hair. After a few quick adjustments, Gwen's simple bun was released, replaced by a riot of unruly curls that perfectly framed her delicate features.

"There, that's better!" Morgana said in a satisfied voice. "But what are we going to do about these clothes? There's dust all over you, and what is this? Water spots? Oh no, this isn't going to work!"

_Why is she suddenly so concerned with the way I look?_ Gwen wondered curiously, as Morgana hurried over to her dresser and produced an old gown she hadn't worn in ages. _Is there some court function I've forgotten about?_

"Put it on," Morgana demanded, and Gwen did as she'd been asked. The deep blue satin felt good against her skin, but the bodice was cut too low and fit her much more tightly than it should have. She looked down at her half exposed breasts, then blushed and raised a hand to cover herself.

"Hmmm," the other woman mused thoughtfully. "It's a little snug, but under the circumstances, that might not be such a bad thing."

Gwen watched in confusion as she turned away and attempted to hide a grin. It was clear that she was being prepared for something, but _what?_ If there were a banquet or some other court function that evening, spare serving uniforms were easily accessible within the palace. Why would Morgana be dressing her in her own clothing?

"My lady, may I ask...?"

"You might, but we're running out of time," Morgana interrupted a little hastily, as she threw an arm around Gwen's shoulders and propelled her towards the door. "You're dismissed. Go on home, Gwen. You'll find out soon enough."

Despite her curiosity over Morgana's peculiar behavior, Gwen left without further question. She hurried through the corridors of the palace, crossing her arms in front of her chest and flushing in embarrassment as the eyes of nearly every male she passed widened at the sight of her exposed bosom. Even Prince Arthur paused to take a second look, though he quickly focused his attention elsewhere when she gave him an impatient scowl.

After deciding _not_ to stop and visit her father at his forge, she arrived home and let herself inside with a sigh of relief. Hastily, she began to unfasten the clasps that held her bodice together, only to let out a gasp of fright as someone awkwardly cleared their throat behind her back.

"George!" she squeaked, grabbing a shawl to cover herself before whirling around to face him. "What on earth are you doing here?!"

The bland faced servant wore the same expression he always did, despite the fact that Gwen had very nearly stripped her clothes off right in front of him. "I have scrubbed the floor, dusted the furniture, washed the dishes, laundered the linens, and prepared your dinner," he said in a monotone voice.

"What...?" Gwen started, before she trailed off in confusion.

"Herb roasted chicken with rosemary, fresh-baked bread with honey butter, a vegetable medley simmered in a delicate white sauce with dill and..."

Gwen raised a hand to stop him. "No, I can see all that. But_ why?_"

"The Lady Morgana instructed me to make your home ready for a romantic evening," he said matter-of-factly, as her mouth fell open in shock. "Are the flowers arranged to your satisfaction? Do you require more candles? Would you like to sit down and have a glass of wine?"

Gwen shook her head in disbelief. Morgana's secrecy, her barely suppressed excitement, the way she'd fussed over Gwen's appearance; suddenly, it all made sense. _A romantic evening..._ obviously, she'd taken it upon herself to interfere in Gwen's nonexistent love life, which wasn't all that surprising, really.

But why would she have chosen _George_ of all people? Not that there was anything _wrong_ with him, of course, but they'd never even spoken beyond absolute necessity.

Gwen sighed in resignation, realizing that she couldn't avoid the uncomfortable situation now, without being discourteous and taking the risk of hurting George's feelings. Affecting a friendly smile, she gestured at the empty chair on the other side of the table.

"George, everything you've done looks wonderful," she said pleasantly. "Why don't you relax and join me?"

It was the first time she had ever seen him look perturbed. "I-I, I don't think..." he stuttered, pulling his shoulders up in a stiff, formal pose. "No, that would not be appropriate. If there's nothing else you require, I must be on my way back to the palace to resume my normal duties. Your suitor should be arriving any minute now. Enjoy your evening."

Gwen felt relieved as she bid George farewell, but as she closed the door behind him, she began to wonder who she should be expecting in his stead. After giving the matter some thought, she finally decided it didn't really matter either way. Her natural shyness and total inexperience with men guaranteed an awkward evening.

Just as she'd lowered her head to stare in consternation at her revealing attire, deciding it would be best to change into something a little more appropriate, there was a loud knock from outside. _Too late now,_ she sighed to herself, tugging ineffectually at the low neckline before opening the door to greet her unknown guest.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed happily. "What brings you here?"

He fidgeted awkwardly, then thrust a wilted bouquet of daisies in her general direction. "Morgana said you'd be expecting me at seven. I'm not late, am I?"

"Oh no," Gwen muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. "She didn't..."

Merlin frowned in response to her visible displeasure. "I'm sorry about the flowers," he told her sheepishly. "Arthur ordered me to go down to the stables and muck out his horses right after I picked them, and I didn't have a chance to put them in water until was too late to make a difference."

"No, Merlin, the flowers are fine. It's just... I... what did Morgana _tell_ you?"

Gwen didn't realize she had dropped her arms, until there was a low, appreciative whistle from the other side of the street. Merlin heard it, too, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head as he realized exactly what it was the small group of craftsmen were gawking at.

"Let's go inside," Gwen said hastily.

* * *

To Merlin's credit, he managed to tear his gaze away from Gwen's chest once they were indoors, but that was only to stare in disbelief at the dozens of burning pillars, the fine displays of perfectly arranged flowers, and the sumptuous meal that was laid out on the simple wooden table.

"Wow..." he said quietly. "You went to a lot of trouble, Gwen. And all the while, I didn't even know that you..."

Gwen flushed in embarrassment. There was no denying that she'd fancied Merlin in the past, but her small crush was nothing compared with the impression she must be giving him now. Thanks to Morgana's tendency to go overboard, it must seem as if she was on the verge of _proposing_ to him!

"I just... just sit down, Merlin," she said abruptly, then realized how rude she must have sounded, and forced a pleasant smile. "What I mean is, will you please have a seat?"

Neither of them spoke as they settled themselves at the table and stared down at their plates. The food smelled delicious, but Gwen found she had little appetite, as her stomach churned with nervousness. She risked a glance at Merlin after a few minutes, trying to see what he was doing without actually having to meet his eyes.

His gaze was fixed directly on her breasts again.

Gwen cleared her throat loudly, then attempted to cover herself without seeming as if she were trying to do so, as she pretended to reach for her glass of wine.

The goblet went flying across the table, splashing Merlin's tunic with rich, red liquid, before it hit the floor and shattered.

"I'm sorry! Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry!" she gasped, her cheeks turning as red as the wine stains that were soaking through his shirt. "Here, let me help you!"

She hastily rose, hurrying over to dab at the mess she'd made with an old cleaning rag. "Oh, it's no use," she exclaimed despairingly. "I've _ruined_ it!"

"It's all right, Gwen," Merlin said, giving her a reassuring smile as he rose and pulled off the garment. "It'll come out after a good soaking. Trust me, I have to do it all the time for Arthur. You wouldn't believe what a slob he is. Not... not that I'm saying _you're_ a slob, just that..."

He trailed off, looking distinctly embarrassed.

Gwen smacked her forehead. "Of _course_! How could I forget something so obvious? Well, nevermind. Come on, I'm sure my father has a shirt you can borrow for the night."

Merlin followed her to the other side of the room, then fidgeted awkwardly as she bent down to rummage through a box of clothing that was stored underneath the bed.

To Gwen's horror, there was suddenly a loud ripping noise, and the constricting fabric that had barely contained her breasts to begin with was gone. In its place, a draft of cool air caressed her bare skin.

"Oh no, oh no..." she muttered in humiliation. "As if this night could get any worse."

And then, Merlin started to laugh.

Gwen glared at him over her shoulder as she crouched awkwardly on the floor in her too tight gown. She took a deep breath to let him know _exactly_ what she thought of his unsympathetic response to her plight, only to be met with the sound of a second loud tear.

Merlin howled in amusement.

"It's not _funny_, Merlin," she managed between gritted teeth.

But when she looked at him again, her embarrassment slowly melted away. As soon as she saw the familiar twinkle in his eye, any further thought of their strange, uncomfortable predicament faded into nothing, replaced by all the reminders as to why she normally felt so at ease in his presence. He was as awkward as she was, after all, and would never think negatively of her for her less than graceful moments.

Unable to help herself, Gwen started to giggle.

* * *

A few minutes later, they were sitting across from each other at the table again, although the strained discomfort they'd felt before was gone. The mess had been cleared away, and Gwen was clad in her familiar yellow dress, glad to feel like herself for the first time all evening. Merlin polished off the last of his chicken, then met her eyes with an easy grin.

"It didn't seem like you, you know," he remarked with a small laugh. "The flowers, candles, the fancy dress. Didn't feel like you at all."

Gwen gave him an offended look. "I'm not _that_ simple, Merlin. I like nice things as much as any other girl."

"No, I didn't mean it like that," he said hastily, pausing to take a large gulp of wine. "I only meant that I can't see you arranging something elaborate like this to let someone know you had feelings for them. You're too honest for that, Gwen. I'm sure you would just tell them."

Gwen studied him quietly. In a way, he was right; she wasn't the type to plan the seduction scene that Morgana had put in place. But Merlin probably wasn't factoring in the shyness that made it so difficult for her to be honest about certain things, even if it _was_ normally her instinctive response to be straightforward about how she felt.

Suddenly, she realized that if there were ever a time to confess any feelings beyond friendship, this was the moment. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again when the words would not come. Why couldn't she say it?

They gazed at each other in silence, each searching the other's face for a few endless heartbeats.

And then, Merlin rose to his feet and came to stand beside her chair. He knelt down and gently cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand. She held her breath as she stared up at him, then closed her eyes as his lips descended upon hers.

Nothing.

The kiss was warm, soft, and even quite pleasant, but that was all. No shiver skittered up Gwen's spine, no sense of longing overtook her senses. She felt as she usually did: calm, rational, filled with the genuine fondness she'd always held for Merlin, but that was all. No new feelings were awakened in her heart, and she knew then that they never would be. Not for Merlin.

When he pulled back, the relief on his face seemed to mirror the way she felt inside. It was an unspoken question that had always lingered between them, and now, they finally had their answer. It was their fate to be friends, dear friends, but nothing more. And despite the disappointment Gwen knew she would've felt if she'd come to that conclusion sooner than she had, there was only gratitude between them as they shared an understanding smile.

"Morgana will be so disappointed," she giggled, feeling warm inside as his face broke into a huge grin.

Someday, she knew that she and Merlin would both find the person they were genuinely meant fall in love with. And it was immensely comforting to know they'd be there to support each other entirely when that time finally came.

No unspoken questions, no jealousy, and no regrets.


End file.
